Who ⚔ Yael & assorted nerds What ⚔ A dungeon run and other things When ⚔ After the party Where ⚔ Errywhere Content Warnings ⚔ Men with their tits out? Alcohol??? No correlation there surprisingly. nsfw i'm sorry mom
[ Stool in its place, Hector stands to reach for his glass. He's about to move, but he instead pauses before Yael to stare down at him.
There's an odd...sincerity in his eyes, one he's shown only one, perhaps two people in his entire life. He hates talking about himself. He'd rather sidestep any answers about himself, keep people away and satisfy them with flattery and good deeds, but he doesn't know his eyes speak for him.
Probably, they say. But I think I'd rather care about you than not at all.
He steps past Yael and rounds the back of the bar, stoops to pick up shattered pieces of glass from the floor. ]
Yeah, well, it's too late for that.
[ He keeps muttering. It's amazing that Yael can hear him.
When he stands, pile of broken glass shards in his hand, brow quirked. ]
[...Well, isn't that a fitting sight? Hector cleaning up someone else's mess while ignoring his own. Yael doesn't feel the kneejerk urge to say so now, the fire having gone out, but that doesn't mean he's content to let Hector indulge in his bad habits.
Rising from his stool, Yael's legs are stiff. His back aches. His head aches. He isn't one for displays of emotion, and the exhaustion coursing through him is one of the reasons why. The other is his reluctance to leave behind messes that others have to clean up, and as he rounds the corner to join Hector behind the bar, Yael scoops the broken glass from his palm and onto his own.]
Yeah. What do I care? I'm just a bitter bastard who looks out for no one but myself. You should've thought about that before deciding to care about me.
[He dumps the shards in his palm into the trash before bending to pick up more.]
I'll make my own bad decisions and you'll make yours. Neither of us is responsible for the other. Got it?
[ It's all he does. Ignore his own messes. Content to sweep them under the rug and hope no one notices how awful it feels to walk on. No one's bothered to point it out so far, so he thinks it's probably fine.
But Yael comes over and snatches the glass from him and he only stares flatly at him. He was taking care of that, bitch.
Fine, though. If Yael's taking care of the glass, Hector will clean up the liquor. He snatches a stack of napkins and begins to lay them out, watching as they absorb the liquid. ]
Those are your terms? [ A wry, irritated smile crosses his lips as he lifts his gaze to look at him. ] Dunno if I can agree to them.
[ Because unfortunately for Yael, Hector is going to fuss over him regardless. ]
[Ah, but of course he'll fuss over him. That what old men with no sense of propriety do, don't they? Aggrieved as the sighs that spool off Yael's tongue sound, his words contrast them sharply.]
You're a pain in the ass. Fine then... What do you propose?
[ The napkins aren't thick enough for all this liquid. Hector grabs another stack, notes how low the supply is getting, and scatters another layer on the ground.
He doesn't look at Yael. ]
Let me worry about you. I don't care what you do about or think of me.
[Oh, Hector. He'd slap him silly if he could. Slap everything but his ass, because frankly, he doesn't deserve to be rewarded for putting everyone's needs before his own.
Yael steps away to resist the temptation and grab a few towels from his personal room, dropping them on the wet floor and nudging them around with his foot.]
Nope. Not happening. Whatever you do to me is what I do to you. You're better off ignoring me if you don't want me on your ass.
[ Hector, in Yael's absence, begins his attempts to mop up the pool of alcohol, but the napkins aren't thick enough. They rip easily, and his hand catches on a shard of glass he missed. Ow. He quickly puts it in his mouth to get it to stop bleeding, steps back to wait it out.
He just watches as Yael finishes that up, and a wry grin bursts over his face.
He plants his hand on his hip, knowing it'll probably stain his armor, but who cares. ]
Then I guess we'll just be on each other's asses anyway. ...In the metaphorical sense, of course.
[ Because he won't not worry about Yael. Unfortunately, Hector will now willingly die for him. ]
Don't say that when I'm bent over in front of you.
[Unfortunately, bending down to sop up what remains of the mess requires doing just that. His poor, unguarded ass...]
Then we have an agreement.
[Straightening up, Yael just... puts the alcohol-soaked rags into his inventory. He'll throw them out later, supposing he remembers to.]
I don't know about you, but I need to log out and drink some real alcohol. I'll talk to you later. [...] Can I trust you not to do anything stupid on your own?
Nah. That thought doesn't even cross his mind. He snorts when Yael brings it up. Have some faith in him.
Things are mostly clean. It's a shame about the shelves though. And the bottles. Hector makes a mental note to pick up...however many got broken. ]
What, you think I'm gonna break more bottles or something? [ He quirks a brow. All that sincerity is quickly buried and covered up, his regular bravado coming back. ] I'll be fine. Go have your drink.
[It's a shame and Fai is most certainly going to ream him for this later... but that's supposing Hector doesn't overextend himself by taking on another issue and making it his own. If Fai isn't angry, Yael will know a certain Hector went on ahead and claimed responsibility for his little blowup. Your days of peace are numbered, old man.]
I think you're just as bad as me.
[Wringing the kinks from his neck, Yael ushers Hector away with a few flicks of his wrist. He can't claim drinking offline will help him feel better, but it'll muddle his memory enough to make up the difference.]
...Thanks.
[Blunt and unceremonious as ever, Yael utters his appreciation quietly before logging off for the night.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
There's an odd...sincerity in his eyes, one he's shown only one, perhaps two people in his entire life. He hates talking about himself. He'd rather sidestep any answers about himself, keep people away and satisfy them with flattery and good deeds, but he doesn't know his eyes speak for him.
Probably, they say. But I think I'd rather care about you than not at all.
He steps past Yael and rounds the back of the bar, stoops to pick up shattered pieces of glass from the floor. ]
Yeah, well, it's too late for that.
[ He keeps muttering. It's amazing that Yael can hear him.
When he stands, pile of broken glass shards in his hand, brow quirked. ]
What do you care about my happiness anyway?
[ Leave him to his own bad decisions, geezer. ]
no subject
Rising from his stool, Yael's legs are stiff. His back aches. His head aches. He isn't one for displays of emotion, and the exhaustion coursing through him is one of the reasons why. The other is his reluctance to leave behind messes that others have to clean up, and as he rounds the corner to join Hector behind the bar, Yael scoops the broken glass from his palm and onto his own.]
Yeah. What do I care? I'm just a bitter bastard who looks out for no one but myself. You should've thought about that before deciding to care about me.
[He dumps the shards in his palm into the trash before bending to pick up more.]
I'll make my own bad decisions and you'll make yours. Neither of us is responsible for the other. Got it?
no subject
But Yael comes over and snatches the glass from him and he only stares flatly at him. He was taking care of that, bitch.
Fine, though. If Yael's taking care of the glass, Hector will clean up the liquor. He snatches a stack of napkins and begins to lay them out, watching as they absorb the liquid. ]
Those are your terms? [ A wry, irritated smile crosses his lips as he lifts his gaze to look at him. ] Dunno if I can agree to them.
[ Because unfortunately for Yael, Hector is going to fuss over him regardless. ]
no subject
You're a pain in the ass. Fine then... What do you propose?
no subject
He doesn't look at Yael. ]
Let me worry about you. I don't care what you do about or think of me.
[ More shards. He picks those up. ]
That's all.
no subject
Yael steps away to resist the temptation and grab a few towels from his personal room, dropping them on the wet floor and nudging them around with his foot.]
Nope. Not happening. Whatever you do to me is what I do to you. You're better off ignoring me if you don't want me on your ass.
no subject
He just watches as Yael finishes that up, and a wry grin bursts over his face.
He plants his hand on his hip, knowing it'll probably stain his armor, but who cares. ]
Then I guess we'll just be on each other's asses anyway. ...In the metaphorical sense, of course.
[ Because he won't not worry about Yael. Unfortunately, Hector will now willingly die for him. ]
no subject
[Unfortunately, bending down to sop up what remains of the mess requires doing just that. His poor, unguarded ass...]
Then we have an agreement.
[Straightening up, Yael just... puts the alcohol-soaked rags into his inventory. He'll throw them out later, supposing he remembers to.]
I don't know about you, but I need to log out and drink some real alcohol. I'll talk to you later. [...] Can I trust you not to do anything stupid on your own?
no subject
Nah. That thought doesn't even cross his mind. He snorts when Yael brings it up. Have some faith in him.
Things are mostly clean. It's a shame about the shelves though. And the bottles. Hector makes a mental note to pick up...however many got broken. ]
What, you think I'm gonna break more bottles or something? [ He quirks a brow. All that sincerity is quickly buried and covered up, his regular bravado coming back. ] I'll be fine. Go have your drink.
no subject
I think you're just as bad as me.
[Wringing the kinks from his neck, Yael ushers Hector away with a few flicks of his wrist. He can't claim drinking offline will help him feel better, but it'll muddle his memory enough to make up the difference.]
...Thanks.
[Blunt and unceremonious as ever, Yael utters his appreciation quietly before logging off for the night.]